


The Lost

by Wispy_Raindrop



Series: Survive, Recover, Live [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Feral Behavior, Gen, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6813136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wispy_Raindrop/pseuds/Wispy_Raindrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are content on your own. You have no one to miss and no one to miss you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost

“ _Lost – yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered, for they are all gone.” - Horace Mann_

It's been a long time since you've seen anyone. You don't know how long, exactly, you've kept no record of it, felt no need for it though the walls of the cave you've claimed as your own are covered in half-finished scribbles done in the blood of your prey. It's something to keep you occupied, keep you sane and in control.

You're not actually sure how much sanity you have left.

But this is your home – you can't remember any other, can't remember who might have lived there with you, if anyone misses you – and you don't need silly little things like sanity or company to feel complete. You are fine on your own, perfectly content to go about your business and only focused on survival. It's enough for you.

The beast you're dragging home is huge in comparison to you but it's no problem. You are super strong and the weight of it is good to keep you in shape. If you're not in shape you get slow, sluggish, and then you are easy prey for the predators of the forest. At least you were able to clean the wounds you inflicted on it. It wouldn't do to have a trail of yellow blood leading would-be hunters straight to your den. Not that you can't handle them but you prefer to keep fights away from your home.

The air is cool, wet snow still dripping from the bent boughs of the trees. You step carefully, finding the marks you made that morning or zigzagging through the bushes if you can't. Spread your scent, your footprints all around and maybe, just maybe, it will make you more difficult to track. The wind shakes the branches and freshens the scent of pine and mud. You smile and add a slight bounce to your step as you make your way home.

This is a wonderful time of year, you think, just when the cold melts away but before life returns to the land. There's a crispness to it that you love and the promise of new things to come that you can't help but look forward to. Sometimes you like to shed your heavy clothes and race through the trees then bathe in the cold lake not too far away. It often leaves you shivering but it's refreshing. It really wakes up your senses too if you're not feeling so good. If the nightmares are getting to you.

You freeze as the wind shifts and carries a strange scent to you. You make a slow turn to look around you but there's nothing immediately within your sight. Whatever it is it's not the usual predators that try to stalk to you. You crouch low, senses on high alert, and dart back to your den in a twisting path in the hopes of throwing them off.

Slipping back into your cave, you dump your meal at the back in case that is what they are after. You've had to deal with scavengers before and sometimes you don't mind sharing, particularly if they are small and wouldn't make a good meal themselves. But the other forest beasts haven't yet returned in their usual numbers and you can't afford to lose this kill since it will last you for a little while.

And it's already been a few days since you've last eaten.

You crawl towards the entrance of your little home and peer out into the dim light of dawn. Nothing yet stirs but the scent you caught earlier is getting stronger. You keep to the shadows and wait.

The sky is brighter when two strange creatures pass by the opening of your home. One is tall and wrapped in greens and black, two long horns curving delicately up from its head though one hooks down like a barb. The other creature is shorter with small, rounded horns and wears black accented with a bright red that makes your fingers twitch. You inch back, ears twitching as you ensure the darkness hides you.

They pass you by but you don't move, muscles tense and eyes wide and unblinking. Their scent doesn't fade. You wait and they return, seemingly wandering aimlessly through your forest. Your lips curl back slightly but you do nothing but watch, almost holding your breathe as you wait for what they will do.

They almost pass by again but the short creature stops and tilts it's head up like it's searching for something. It jerks towards you suddenly and you almost jump.

Bright red eyes stare at you.

Your face twists into a snarl and you step forward, claws extending from your fingers. You don't mind the bleeding, it's of no concern to you as the it dribbles down your paws and onto the ground. The creature blinks and lowers itself to the ground. It never takes its eyes off of you. Smart. The other creature hangs back and to the side, not presenting itself as a threat and saying visible at all times. Good. It makes both of them easier to take out.

The short creature's mouth moves, revealing razor sharp teeth. You swipe at it and it flinches back. The other one jerks but doesn't move from its spot though its eyes flash and seem to pierce you. The first creature crouches lower, front legs rising and paws up flat. Its mouth flaps again but slowly, more carefully, eyes intently focused on you. You sneer.

The creature's brows scrunch up and it rocks back on its heels. You sink down, muscles tensing as you fidget and prepare to pounce.

Slowly, cautiously, the creature brings its paws together, face blank as it stares at you. Then its paws move, forming strange shapes and gestures. You frown and blink, eyes tracking the movement. It doesn't make any sense but there is some pattern to them and it repeats the motions as you watch. It alternates between simple and complicated but there's something there hidden beneath it and you want to reach out to grab it in your claws before it escapes you entirely.

Eventually the beast pauses and returns its paws to their previous position. You stare at each other and you feel your body relax but you don't move save for the twitching of your ears.

The creature breathes deeply – sighs? - eyes closing briefly before it brings its paws in front of it once more to form something else. Shapes, words, something you only half-remember from a life before you dwelled in a cave. But you never lived anywhere else.

But the creature is patience which you find rather odd though you can't figure out why. His hands keep those same careful, steady motions that form shapes, words...

Words.

Name.

Do you have a name?

You shift your weight onto your legs, retract your claws and bring your paws – hands – before you. You mimic his actions. A smile twitches at his lips. Does he have a name?

_Mew_ -

You are... friends, you think. He knows you. But no one knows you save the beasts of the forest, the wind and the trees themselves. This is your home. You don't belong anywhere else.

_Screaming, he was screaming, why was he screaming? But no, not now, not anymore, he's stopped but his mouth is still gaping, body still thrashing. Why are the sides of you head wet?_

He leans a little closer, hands changing shape, forming a different word, different letters and he points to himself. You copy him and he almost smiles again before quickly hiding it behind a scowl. Out of the corner of your eye you see the other creature move back.

_Silence, he is silent, silencing himself but you don't notice – can't notice. But he – another he – learned letters for fingers, words for hands to form. He's rude and mean and hurtful but he helps. You don't know why. You never ask him._

He repeats the same process for the other creature and you relax completely, sitting on your knees and regarding them carefully as you copy him before dropping your hands. He stops when you do and frowns. He jerks as if he wants to move towards you but doesn't, as if he's afraid of what you might do. But then, you're not sure what you'll do either.

He is trembling like he's cold but his clothes look heavy enough to keep him warm even in the chill of a fading winter. A glance at the exposed skin of his arms reveals bright red lines crawling along his skin like veins. Maybe that's what they are.

_Kan-_

You look into his eyes as rough memories drag themselves to the surface of your thinkpan. They are disjointed and terrible, filled with blood of so many different colours they are like the walls that have become your canvas. You don't want to remember, it's easier not to. But it's so much more lonely.

You bring your hands up again and form the words that belong to you and only you, the ones he gave you when you could no longer understand them, and you attach them to yourself once more.

_Leijon._

Meulin Leijon.

Kankri Vantas smiles and you think it might be the first time you've seen him happy.

 

“ _Remember your name. Do not lose hope – what you seek will be found.” - Neil Gaimon_

 

**Author's Note:**

> So the character is supposed to be unknown until the end of the story but I feel like it might be kind of obvious. Though that might be because I wrote it. At any rate I'll keep it as that.  
> Also, yes, I decided to include these guys though I've added elements of the ancestors as most of the Beforan trolls are rather two dimensional so that's why Kankri is a bit OOC (though it could be argued he might have grown into a better person if he had lived but I digress). Also, out of all the Beforan trolls, Porrim and Kankri seem the most likely to me to know sign language, not that I think Kankri actually uses it regularly, so that's where that bit comes from.  
> And since this is getting longer than I'd like I'll just end it on one more note.
> 
> This takes place roughly around the same time as Hell In A Handbasket.


End file.
